


looking his way (a collection of excerpts from stories i'll never write)

by wanderinglips



Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Bad Ending, Cheating, Fluff, Happy Ending, Homophobia, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, One Shot Collection, Religious Conflict, Same-Sex Marriage, Wedding Fluff, idk what else to tag im bad at this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-21 07:34:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14911088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderinglips/pseuds/wanderinglips
Summary: a collection of oneshots that i've written over a period of time. some are short and others are longer. will gradually add on





	1. (un)forgotten aprils

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> he can't seem to forget his birthday.

I try to forget. Every year on this day, I try to push it’s significance out of my head, bury it six feet underground. It’s not my job to remember anymore, so I don’t know why my brain does this. Every twelfth of April.

We had traditions: every twelfth of April, we would hang out together, just us and no one else. Whether it was going to an amusement park and getting sick on the roller coasters or ordering a pizza and watching _Romeo and Juliet_ while cuddling on the couch, it was always special.

The first after we parted ways was weird. I was so use to waking up and heading straight to him, ready to spend the day together, but that twelfth of April I spent alone. It hurts because I loved him so much and I would have done anything to make sure he never frowned on his birthday.

I still would do anything to see that smile again. I guess we can’t have everything.

I woke up this morning hoping I wouldn’t remember. I’m scrolling through social media, pictures of my friends and them living their best lives full of smiles and adventures.

God, that could have been _us_.

I exit the app and open twitter and the first thing I see on highlights: a picture of my boy, smiling his biggest toothy smile, eyes squinted, with words spread over the picture that reads “Happy Birthday, Brendon!”

He’s not that 17 year old kid who was new to fame, to music, full of excitement but also so scared of what was to come. The boy who would whisper small encouragements to me when I was afraid to get on stage. The boy who I fell in love with. He’s not a boy anymore.

I want to tell you so bad, but you’re better off not hearing from me. You have a life, a wife, friends. you’re doing great. I’m so proud of you. I know you cant hear me, but happy birthday, Brendon.


	2. remember the tower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> happy birthday, brendon.

Another year.

I woke up this morning the way I’ve been waking up every twelfth of April since that day: lonely. Granted, I shouldn’t feel lonely because I have millions of fans constantly shooting encouragements and love - and today, a series of “happy birthdays” - but it’s not the same. It will never feel the same as it did those five years of birthdays back then. He’d always come to me, no matter what plans he had that day, no matter who wanted to hang out with him, he’d put me first on this day.

I remember on my nineteenth when we went to Disneyland. I insisted we go on the Tower of Terror even though he had this face of “Brendon, why? You know I’m scared of drops,” he pursued my desire anyways. Once we were on and the ride was rising, Ryan looked at me nervously. It reached the top and came to a halt and he instantly grabbed my hand, holding on to it so tight, he was cutting off blood circulation in my fingers. It drops hard and fast and Ryan screamed so loud, the calm five year old sitting next to him gave him a funny look and proceeded to giggle at him. I giggled with her.

We got off and as soon as we did, he punches my arm and says, “that was the most terrifying thing that I’ve ever been through. You’re lucky I love you.” he’d said it before, but every time he does, my heart drops and my stomach fills with the same butterflies that have been infesting it since I first met him. After the theme park closed and we were leaving, he and I sat in the car for a bit. He grabs my hand, looks over at me and whispers, “happy birthday, Brendon” then flashes me the biggest, brightest smile he nearly blinds me. He kisses my cheek and we head home, never letting go of each other’s hands the whole way. I wish we could have more times like that, but he’s gone.

Today, on this twelfth of April, I am alone.

I was hoping Sarah would remember and spend the day with me, but all I got this morning while I was brushing my teeth was “morning”.

Yeah, morning.

It’s 5 p.m. and all I’ve done is play video games and hang with my dogs. Haven’t even talked to anyone. Spencer remembered. Fans remembered. Did he? I log onto Instagram and go live for a bit. I hope my viewers can’t see how miserable this birthday is.

 _”This is the most terrifying thing I’ve ever been through,”_ he said that day we split.

For me too.

I say goodbye to those that were watching me and close the app.

I want him to remember. Did he remember this year? Has he remembered for the past nine years?

Hey Ryan, I know you can’t hear me, but I want so badly for you to talk to me.

Happy birthday, Brendon.


	3. yellow marigold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> eight years of love later and here they are: on a beach in malibu for a wedding. their wedding.

“How do I look?” Ryan asks Spencer.

Spencer smiles and says, “You look amazing. Look at my best friend all grown up and getting married.” Ryan can’t believe it either. It seems like just yesterday, he and Brendon had just met, went out, kissed for the first time. He can’t believe it’s been eight years and that now at twenty-five, he’s marrying the boy he loves.

Time flies when you have someone you love right beside you.

Ryan looks in the mirror and examines his appearance. His navy suit, which he had gotten tailored to fit his long stature, black tie, followed by his brown wingtip shoes, and one yellow marigold peeking out of his breast pocket. It’s bright, fully bloomed, and full of meaning.

Ryan recalls that night. He and Brendon were out walking the streets of New York hand in hand. It was a cold winter night around three am. Their movie had ended and they didn’t want to call it a night, so they decided to walk around. Ryan had said something that made Brendon laugh, then Brendon got distracted over something. He scrambled towards the object of his attention and came back to Ryan with his hands behind his back.

“Okay, close your eyes,” he tells Ryan, excitement apparent on his face.

Ryan sighs. “I don’t know what you’re up to now, Urie, but alright,” and shuts his eyes.

Brendon takes ahold of Ryan’s hands, opening them so that his palms are facing up and his hands are flat. He then sets a bright yellow flower on top.

“What is this? Can I open my eyes now?” Ryan asks.

Brendon takes a step back and responds, “Yeah! Open your eyes!”

Ryan opens his eyes, sees the yellow flower and takes a better grip of it. A small smile appears on his face. He looks at Brendon and finds him smiling, too.

“It’s a yellow marigold. Yellow is a happy colour and it signifies how happy you’ve made me for the past two years,” Brendon explains to his boyfriend.

Now knowing the meaning, Ryan chuckles and pulls Brendon into an embrace. “I love you, Brendon.”

That night will always be remembered by Ryan because even though it was a small gesture, no one had ever done something that thoughtful for him. He will cherish that memory forever.

* * *

 

There is a cloud of hairspray surrounding Brendon.

“Brendon, your hair is fine! Enough with the hairspray!” exclaims Jon.

Brendon sets the bottle of hairspray down and looks at Jon. “One can never have too much hairspray. Now, how am I looking, Jon? Does my tux look like it fits right? Did I pick the right one? Does my hair-“

“You look great, Bren. See for yourself,” interrupts jon, pulling him towards the mirror.

Brendon steps into the view of the mirror and checks himself out. His black tux didn’t need any tailoring because the shop surprisingly had one in his exact measurements. Some luck. With his hair slicked back enough to keep his hair from covering his forehead, his white collared shirt with a black tie, and his black dress shoes, he was ready for his wedding.

Brendon inhales deeply at his appearance. His heart is beating so rapidly, he‘s surprised it hasn’t burst out of his chest onto the floor. Brendon can’t believe he’s actually getting married to the guy he’s been in love with for eight years.

“Finally,” he whispers under his breath.

* * *

  
It was time for the reception. It was being held in Malibu on a private beach. The sun is setting, the waves are crashing, and their friends and family were eager to see the two.

Ryan comes out first with Jon. Ryan steps onto the stage to stand by the notary while Jon stands off the stage, serving as his best man. The music begins and the crowd stands. Brendon walks out with Spencer serving as his best man. Ryan’s heart drops at the sight of his fiancée and soon he’s smiling from ear to ear, tears in his eyes. Brendon steps onto the stage, facing Ryan.

Ryan takes a hold of Brendon’s hands and tells him, “you look so handsome.”

Brendon smiles widely at his statement. “As do you, Ry,” Brendon responds.

The notary begins the reception and says his parts. By the end, he says the words the the two have been waiting to hear: “You may now kiss the groom.” The pair lock eyes and exchange smiles before coming together for a passionate kiss. The crowd comes alive with a series of claps and cheers. They’re officially husbands. Married. Wed to be together until their time comes. They pull back and hug before walking hand in hand down the aisle once more.

* * *

  
The party is alive. Everyone is dancing and eating the cake the newlyweds have just cut, both shoving cake in the face of the other during the process. Once they had cleaned up, Brendon goes up to the dj and he hands Brendon the mic. The music dies down.

“Uh, excuse me,” he says to quiet down everyone. Ryan, who was standing with Spencer and a few of their friends, looks over at his husband on the mic. “So, as most of you may know, I’m a big fan of Sinatra, but I’m also a big fan of Ryan over there, so I thought, why not put the two together? This song that’s about to play is very special to Ryan and I. Without further ado, Ryan, baby, may I have this dance?” Ryan makes his way to Brendon as _Love Me Tender_ by Frank Sinatra begins playing. The two come together and begin slow dancing.

Ryan has the biggest smile on his face. “I can’t believe you remembered.”

The day that Ryan’s father had passed, Ryan locked himself in their room and cried all day. Finally at night, Brendon joined Ryan in bed, cuddled into him and stroked his hair as he softly sang, “ _love me tender, love me long, take me to your heart for it’s there that I belong and we’ll never part._ ”

“Yeah. I remembered,” Brendon tells Ryan with a smile on his face. He pulls Ryan in for a kiss and softly sings into his ear, “ _for my darling, I love you and I always will_.” 


	4. along for the ride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> brendon is addicted to going through with risk taker ryan's plans.

For the longest that I’ve known Ryan Ross, he’s always been the daredevil. He never played it safe; from going up to the biggest dude in the bar to pick a fight to illegal sex. He doesn’t have a limit. He’s a risk taker addicted to the rush.

Me? I’m just addicted to the dangerous boy.

At first, I was hesitant when he asked me to join him in one of his adrenaline pumping adventures. The plan was to sneak into an underground club in Los Angeles and into VIP, and possibly score some top-notch drugs. I was scared at first because I don’t do things like this. I’m just a guy who lives without adrenaline, not doing anything dangerous, and definitely no risk taking.

That was until that day.

We successfully made it inside the club and Ryan and I head to VIP. Of course there was a bouncer guarding the entrance, but Ryan, being as charming as he is, began smooth talking the large man. The bouncer let us in and when his eyes landed on me, I gave him a weary smile.

Nice, Urie.

“Score!” said Ryan as he looks around.

The fear began leaving my body as I take in what we have just accomplished. “What now?” I ask him.

Ryan grabs my hand and drags me to the bar. He orders us drinks and the bartender brings them. Ryan looks at me, smiles and says, “We drink.” We toast and chug the drinks down.

The night went on and I don’t remember much of what happened next, just a blur of faces, Ryan, alcohol, and drugs.

The next day when I woke up Ryan’s apartment, both still fully clothed, I didn’t know I would become addicted to doing things I shouldn’t with this boy.

* * *

  
The sound of my phone ringing wakes me up. I rub my tired eyes and check the Caller ID: Ryan Ross.

Still half asleep, I say into the phone, “Hey Ryan.”

Ryan, who sounds like he’s on his motorcycle, yells, “Hey Brendon! I was wondering if you were down to do something tonight?!”  
those are the words i always love to hear.  
“Yeah, sure. What did you have in mind?”  
“Open up cause I’m outside,” he says, the whir of the motorcycle having long faded.

Sure enough, right as he said that, a knock was at my door. I open up and there’s Ryan, leather jacket, gripping his motorcycle helmet, phone still pressed to his ear.  
“Let’s talk,”he says into the phone then hangs up.

He comes inside and we sit in my living room. I turn on the TV because we hate talking when it’s too quiet. There always needed to be some background noise.

“So, there’s this concert tonight,” he begins.

I laugh. “Just a concert? There has to be some kind of Ryan Ross twist to this.”

   
He laughs a beautiful laugh. Why go to a concert when his laugh is music to my ears?

“So this concert is sold out and it’s in a secret underground venue. I wanna get on stage with the band and play the guitar,” he says full of excitement.

I rest my face in my palm. “Ross, you’re crazy.”

Ryan leans back into the seat and brushes his hair out of his eyes. “Yeah, I know," he responds nonchalantly. "So, are you in?”

“Well, what am I suppose to do?” I ask him. If his plan is to get onstage, what’s his plan for me?

“You’re gonna help me, but if you want, you can join me and get on stage. Maybe you can sing with the front man,” he tells me. He stares at me with sparkling eyes. “So what do you say, are you in?”

No. This is crazy. I’m not in.

“Yeah, let’s do this!” I hear myself say. 

But it’s Ryan and I’ll do anything Ryan wants me to do.

Time passes by rather quickly and before we know it, it’s concert time. Ryan and I are getting ready at his place, he has on his leather jacket, tight pants, and is currently applying eyeliner. He told me I should wear some eyeliner, too, so I let him put it on me. I don’t look half bad and he only stabbed my eye twice.

Ryan finishes his makeup and turns to look at me. “So, how do I look?”

Beautiful. Stunning. You always look breathtaking.

“You look great. How about me?” I say instead. He examines my tight, low-waisted pants, too short shirt, and eyeliner. “You’re looking great yourself. Alright,” he’s moving to get two helmets, “You ready?” he tosses me one of the helmets.

I stare at Ryan and take him in. We’ve been friends for so long, but only now have I gotten addicted to his risk taking side. I never thought of myself as a risk taker, I guess it just took Ryan to bring it out of me. Whatever the adventure he wants to go on may be, I’ll never say no. Even if I know I shouldn’t, I’ll always say yes, Ryan. Anything for you.

“Yeah,” I tell him, “let’s do this,” and we head out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> disclaimer: title isn't mine. taken from sarah dessen's book "along for the ride"


	5. of course we do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> after his first on-stage performance in three years, ryan still feels as if he's stayed forgotten.

The party was loud, wild, and alive. Everyone was dancing and smiling while doing so, having a good time. All of the acts have performed already so by this point, people were focusing on having a good time for the rest of the night.

My friend nudged me and told me that she was going to go get us some punch and I nodded in return. I look around and take in the lounge: It’s old, very old, and when you walk in, you feel like you’re stepping into a time machine that’s taking you back to the 1900s, stepping into a piece of history. The ancient lounge had streamers and party decorations everywhere, up by the front was a stage no more than three feet elevated with instruments decorating it. Over to the left of the stage were a series of tables full of snacks, drinks, and pastries all up for grabs. To the right of the stage was where the dj was set up, along with lights that keep flashing an array of colours. The dj himself seems to be having a good time, mingling with people every so often. I realise that he’s talking to someone, a skinny, tall man. The lounge is pretty dark, so all that I’m able to make out from the mystery man’s silhouette is that he’s tall, skinny, and is wearing a dark coloured suit. They’re both laughing. I take a few steps closer to see who the man is and I instantly freeze.

It clicks in my head where I am, who the host is, and who’s attending: it’s Ryan Ross.

All of a sudden, it feels like I’ve been punched in the stomach because I cannot seem to catch my breath. I pull myself together and start making my way over to him. Oh my God what am I doing? What am I going to say to him? What is happening? I’m dreaming, I know I am.

“I’m probably gonna be bothering him,” I say out loud, not realising it until I hear a deep laugh.

“You’re no bother,” Ryan says with a smile on his face. Wow, he’s more gorgeous in person.

Thank God I didn’t say _that_ out loud.

I examine his appearance and now that I am up close, I can see that he’s wearing a black suit with a black collared shirt followed by a black tie and, what do you know, black wingtips. When he said that every night is goth night, he wasn’t kidding. His hair looks to have been straightened and he has some stubble.

I rub my face with my hand. “Sorry, I didn’t mean for that to leave my thoughts.”

He laughs again. “It’s fine. Don't worry.”

I exhale the breath I didn't know I was holding and continue. “Anyways, I just, uh, wanted to tell you how great you did earlier and that I really admire your work. It’s really influenced me a lot. So much that I started writing myself,” I tell him with a smile.

Ryan looks a bit taken aback. “Wow. That means a lot, thank you,” he says as he pulls me into a hug. He leans down just slightly because of our height difference. He's warm and his embrace feels safe, almost. “I didn't know that what I do still affected people because I've been gone for so long, I figured people had forgotten by now.”

I hear my heart break. Actually, someone dropped a cup, but that's the sound my heart made when I heard Ryan say that. Forgotten about him?

“Forgotten about you?” I pull back from the embrace. “Ryan, even though you’ve been gone, that doesn’t mean you’ve been forgotten. I, and the rest of your admirers, always think of you. We miss you everyday and hope you’re doing well and standing here right now, I can see that you have been doing well, which is so good to know. We just want you to take your time on things, come back when you’re ready or if you don’t even want to come back, have a great life because you deserve it. We just all want you to be happy and to know that so many people care about you.”

All of those words sort of spilled out of my mouth. I finally look up at him and, oh no. Is that? Did I just make Ryan Ross cry?

He lifts his hand up and wipes his face. “Man, I’m so sorry. This must be pretty lame, huh? Having the guy you look up to cry right in front of you?” he says with a laugh.

“I kind of have to look up at you. You’re a whole head taller than me,” I respond. He laughs and this fills me with joy. I just made Ryan Ross cry and laugh within a span of ten minutes.

He takes a breath and looks at me. “Thank you. For what you said. That really does make me feel better knowing that people out there still care about me.”

We care. We care so goddamn much, Ryan.

I smile at him. “We always will.” 


	6. for now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> time, truth, hearts.

“PA-NIC! PA-NIC!” the crowd roars.

The band is backstage prepping themselves for their show tonight; getting into their stage clothes & makeup all while some music plays in the background to get them amped up.

“Ryan! Have you seen my shirt?” yells Spencer as he’s digging through a pile of clothes.

Ryan looks up at his friend and says, “it’s in the bathroom, Spence! Remember you spilled juice on it yesterday so you went to clean it up earlier?”

Spencer stops what he’s doing and puts his hand on his chin as if he’s thinking back to the grape juice spill. “Oh yeah. Thanks Ry!” he says and scurries off to the bathroom.

Brendon is sitting down, drumming on his thighs and singing along to the Fall Out Boy song playing.

“ _I want to hate you half as much as I hate my...self_ ,” Brendon sang.

Ryan looked over at the boy and continued the song. “ _You know that I could crush you with my voice_.”

Brendon looked up from his intense drumming and up at Ryan who was now walking towards him. They were alone as Spencer fetched his shirt, Jon was napping in another room, and Zack was running errands as he does.

“You nervous?” Ryan asks Brendon.

Brendon exhales. “Not really. Still have the usual pre-show jitters, but it’s not as bad as it use to be.” He turns his head to face Ryan. “How about you? How are you doing?” he asks the brunette.

Ryan looks down at his hands. “It’s there, the nervousness, but I’ll get use to it eventually.”

Brendon puts a hand on Ryan’s shoulder and squeezes it. “You’re gonna do gre- oh my god! Ryan!” Brendon exclaims as A _ll These Things That I’ve Done_ by The Killers begins to play. “We have to dance to this song, c’mon!” He grabs Ryan’s hand and pulls him to the open space in the room. Soon, Brendon’s arms are around Ryan’s neck and Ryan’s hands are on Brendon’s waist.

 _“When there’s nowhere else to run, is there room for one more son?”_   the song says as the two are smiling and slowly swaying back and forth. They do this all the time, in the hotel rooms they share, the bus when they’re alone, even when they’re home and hanging out. This was normal for them.

Brendon gets closer to Ryan and lays his head on his boney shoulder. He softly sings along to the song. When the track reaches the bridge, Brendon starts cracking jokes into Ryan’s ear.

“ _I got soul but i’m not a soldier._  I got ham but I’m not a hamster. I got toast but I’m not a toaster,” Brendon hummed into the other boy’s ear, making Ryan giggle.

Ryan responds with, “you’re the biggest dork I’ve ever met, Brendon Urie. I love you so much. Please never change,” only it comes out as, “you’re an idiot.”

They both chuckle and continue to sway along to the song and the crowd’s continuous chanting of “PA-NIC! PA-NIC!” 

 _This will do_ , they both thought.


	7. you're safe with me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> home is wherever you are.

“I don’t understand what’s so hard about loving your own flesh and blood for who they are!” Brendon screamed.

* * *

  
Brendon had just come home from school and when he stepped over the threshold, he called out, “I’m home!”

Silence. He walked down the hall into the living room and there were his parents: both sitting and glaring at him so intensely they were burning holes into Brendon’s body.

Brendon was puzzled. “What’s going on?” he asked as he dropped his backpack on the ground.

His father cleared his throat and set the magazine that Brendon knows very well on the table. The one full of pictures of muscular men in underwear, the one he would look through every night when he got the chance.

Brendon’s heart dropped. _Should I run,_ he thought.

His father sees that his son’s face has lost its colour and that’s answer enough for him.

“How could you do this to us? Betray the church by living behind this sinful curtain?” Boyd says, disappointment apparent in his tone.

That is how he ended up in a screaming match with his father while his mother sat and weeped silently.

Brendon laughs. “Please. How can I betray the church if I don’t even believe in it?”

Boyd’s face drains of its colour. “What did you just say?”

Brendon grabs his backpack and yells, “I. DON’T. BELIEVE. IN. GOD,” before dashing out of the living room, out of the house, and runs to the first place that comes to mind.

Brendon knocks on the door, still panting.

“Hey Bren- why are you out of breath? Did you run here? Is everything okay?” he questions Brendon.

Brendon finally catches his breath and wraps his arms around the older boy’s neck. “No, Ryan. Everything is fucked.” Before Brendon knows it, he’s crying into his best friend’s shoulder.

Ryan pulls their bodies inside his small apartment. Ryan has lived alone in this apartment ever since his father kicked him out for being gay. His situation went differently, though: Ryan actually _told_ his dad that he liked guys other than girls and when his dad told him to “fuck off”, he stayed at a friend’s house until he had earned enough money from his job to get his own place.

Ryan pulls back. “What happened, Bren? Tell me. I’m here.”

Brendon inhales and exhales deeply. “My parents,” he begins. “They found out.”

Ryan’s eyes widen. “How?”

“They found my magazine. With the guys in it,” the shaken boy replies. “I can’t stay there, Ryan. I just can’t. You should have seen the looks of disappointment they were giving me, almost disgusted looks.”

“Hey, you can stay here. As long as you want. No worries,” Ryan responds in a soothing voice as he runs his fingers through Brendon’s hair.

The two settle on the lone couch in the middle of the small room. Ryan has little furniture in his apartment. Apart from the couch the boys are settled on, there’s a mattress at the top left corner of the room with a small bookcase full of CDs, movies, and books right next to it. To the right of the mattress is the kitchen that looks to fit as many as one person, and by the door was a small table. The walls were an off white colour with some loose paint chips here and there. It wasn’t the prettiest looking place, but it was enough for Ryan to call home. And now Brendon, too.

Granted, home to Brendon was anywhere that Ryan was.

Ryan looks at Brendon and asks, “so, do you want to get your mind off of everything with some movies?”

Brendon’s eyes light up just a little bit as he responds with, “yes. Please”

Ryan makes his way to the lone mattress to get his laptop and says, “ _Romeo and Juliet_?”

“Yeah,” Brendon responds.

They huddle closely with each other so that both of the boys are able to see the screen. During the middle of the movie, Brendon seems to have fallen asleep. Ryan discovers this when he asks the younger boy a question and received no response. He looked over at Brendon and there he was, eyes closed, even breaths. He’s had a long day. Ryan takes Brendon’s head and leans it right on his shoulder, runs his fingers through Brendon’s soft hair, and places a gentle kiss on his forehead.

“You’re gonna be okay, kid. As long as you're with me, nothing will hurt you,” Ryan whispers.

“I love you, Ryan,” says a sleepy voice.

Ryan smiles. “And I love you.”

The movie continues playing as the two boys slept on the small couch in Ryan’s home.

Their home. 


	8. book of lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "i thought you loved me."

“Aw, do you really have to go right now?” whined Ryan. He hated when his boyfriend had to leave abruptly like this.

Brendon pecks Ryan’s lips as he gets out of bed, tugging his pants on. “Yeah. Jon called in sick so I gotta cover for him, but I’ll be back tomorrow. Sound good?”

Ryan nodded. “I’ll miss you.”

Brendon stops what he’s doing and smiles at his boyfriend. “I’ll miss you too, Ry.”

Brendon heads for the door, grabbing his things along the way. As he’s halfway out the door, he yells “love you!” and the door slams shut.

Ryan lays there all alone with the left side of the bed growing colder by the minute.

Brendon had been working his ass off lately. He says he’s wanting to make extra money to get a new guitar and Ryan was proud of Brendon for working so hard. Even though it does mean that Brendon has to leave in the middle of their cuddle sessions sooner that anticipated.

The next day, Brendon comes back around as he’d said the day before. As soon as he shows up, he promises Ryan he’d stay longer this time.

In the middle of their movie, Ryan asks, “so how was work yesterday? The diner packed?”

Brendon seemed a little caught off guard, fumbling through his answer. “Uh, y-yeah, pretty hectic day. Packed to capacity,” he replies, avoiding eye contact at all costs.

Ryan sensed that something was a bit off about Brendon, today especially.

Ryan furrows his brows. “Are you sure? Cause you don’t seem very sure.”

Brendon looks at Ryan then quickly averts his gaze once more. “Yeah, I’m sure,” he says with a slight chuckle that says “don’t be silly, Ryan. Of course I’m sure.”

Ryan tries to brush off the thought and finish the movie, but it lies in the back of his mind. Why had his boyfriend been acting so odd lately?

Brendon catches a shower the next morning before work. As he’s showering, Ryan hears Brendon’s phone buzz on the dresser. Not thinking much of it, he glances at the screen, but sees something that makes his stomach twist and body go into a state of shock.

“Good mornin baby <3 cant wait 2 see u later,” from: Jake.

In complete denial, Ryan just assumes that it was the wrong number and that Brendon doesn't know anyone named Jake.

Ryan hears the shower turn off and quickly puts the phone down, resuming his task of making the bed. Brendon walks out with just a towel around his waist, water droplets decorating his bare torso, hair dripping. He goes up behind Ryan and hugs him and bites his neck.

“Morning, sunshine,” Brendon tells Ryan in a suave voice.

Ryan flinches, hoping Brendon didn’t notice and returns with a “morning.”

Ryan peels Brendon off of him and heads towards the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Brendon quickly dresses himself and goes after Ryan.

“Everything okay, Ry?” Brendon asks cautiously. He knows when something is bothering Ryan and how when he gets angry, he gets angry. You’ll know.

Ryan nearly breaks his mug as he slams it down. “Actually Brendon, I don’t know.” He’s walking slowly towards Brendon. “I heard your phone buzz earlier. Checked it, but I wasn’t expecting to see what I saw on your screen. 'morning baby'?" he tells his boyfriend in a monotone voice. “Who is that?”

Brendon pales. He‘s sure Ryan has found him out.

 _Shit_ , Brendon thinks.

“Ryan, listen-“ he begins.

“I don’t think I want to listen to you, Brendon,” Ryan interrupts. He’s fuming. He’s angry that the person he loves would betray him like this.

Brendon walks up to Ryan and grabs him by the shoulders. “Ryan. That was my roommate’s boyfriend. He texts him from my phone because he’s in the middle of trying to break the news that he’s gay to his girlfriend and doesn’t want her to see those texts.”

Ryan gives Brendon a puzzled look. “Can’t Spencer just... delete the texts after they’ve texted on his phone?”

Brendon sighs. “Spence doesn’t want to risk it. He doesn’t want to hurt her.”

Ryan stares at Brendon and mutters an “oh.”

Brendon hugs Ryan to try and ease him up. “You have _nothing_ to worry about, Ry. I would never do something like that to you.” Ryan feels a little bit at ease now knowing that Brendon would never cheat on him. He shudders just thinking about it.

Later that day, Ryan goes over to Brendon’s apartment to drop off the work uniform he had left. He puts the key into the lock - they had given each other a key to the other’s apartment - and walks in. “Hey Bren, you left-“ and when Ryan looks up, he pales. He can’t believe what he’s seeing. Certainly, he’s dreaming. He’s dreaming and this is a nightmare and he’s going to wake up with a cold sweat in bed any second now.

It doesn’t happen.

Brendon peels himself off of the boy on his couch and buttons up his shirt as quickly as he can. The boy on the couch doesn’t seem phased.

“Ryan. Baby, look-“ Brendon begins.

Ryan’s blood is boiling with hurt and anger. “Just- don’t, Brendon. Don’t talk to me. Ever again,” Ryan mutters to Brendon with a voice so full of hurt. Ryan drops the clothes on the floor and walks out of the complex.

 _I would never so something like that to you_. What bullshit, Ryan thought.

As soon as he gets home, he goes straight into his room, kicking off his shoes in the process. Ryan gets the framed picture of him and Brendon smiling at each other - the one they took on the date they went on for their first anniversary - and throws it across the room, hitting a wall and shattering. He knocks books off the shelves, kicks the trashcan, scattering its contents, kicks his desk. He’s so beyond angry. Ryan can’t believe he trusted this guy that he apparently didn’t even truly know.

 _Three years of my life, wasted_ , Ryan thought.

He gets into bed and finally all of the bottled up emotions from what happened earlier gets released. Before he can control what’s happening, Ryan’s crying hard. He feels so betrayed. Brendon lied straight to his face, promised him that he had nothing to worry about. All those times he randomly left to go to “work” wasn’t to go to work, but with that guy. Probably Jake. How long had this been going on?

Ryan thinks back to about two months ago. That’s when Brendon began picking up “extra shifts” to get more money.

Ryan can’t even believe what’s happening is real. For the next two weeks, Ryan cuts contact with everyone, not coming out of his room. He’d spent every night crying. Brendon tried to get ahold of him the day after the walk-in, but Ryan ignored every attempt made. Eventually, Brendon gave up trying.

No surprise there.

Ryan really thought Brendon loved him.

Guess that was just another addition to Brendon’s book of lies.

Ryan curls up into a ball and whispers as tears hit his pillow, “I thought you loved me.”

He doesn’t sleep that night. Or any night following. 


End file.
